Showing posts with label Bible. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bible. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 27, 2016

Inspiration

When I organized my "Chaucer Room," I reserved the wall above my desk for sources of inspiration. I knew I would need encouragement for the road ahead. I posted helpful, inspiring quotes there.
      One of the first little items was my favorite Bible verse: This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it. I'd found a charming Middle English version--with the thorn (Þ) that became th.

Þis ys  Þe day
           Þat our lord made;
                             be we glad and ioyfull in hure! 

Soon after came a quote from Venerable Bede. It expressed precisely how I felt about studying Chaucer. I knew many students who were content to scan the Tales in Middle English--or even to read Modern English versions instead! I already recognized what they were missing.
Bede, addressing a medieval audience, said, Reading should be slow and attentive, laborious, intent on the reward contained in the underlying meaning. This is my work-style in a nutshell, taking each word as important, with the Middle English Dictionary at my side.  Bede's recommendation  naturally became the perfect epigram for my first book-- Chaucer's Host.
     Of course inspiration can come from less-than-serious sources. I used to refer to myself as an "intellectual bottleneck." This cartoon doesn't exactly reflect that, but it always made me laugh and renew my determination to say what needed to be said. 

Peter Elbow helped me overcome the bottleneck. We'll get to him soon.

















 

Thursday, October 2, 2014

Unexpected ideas--including a bird!

The afternoon at Rowland Heights Library was unforgettable. It goes to prove that we need to ask questions about what Chaucer is doing. His works are not stiff, not dead, not completely understood. Questions add life, interest and new paths to investigate. Three gray-haired Chaucer lovers--Helen and Linda and Tom--demonstrated just how exciting it can get.

I generally start my presentation by promoting Middle English. As an ice-breaker, I  pass out little pink papers with a medieval version of the story of the three pigs. When I asked for a volunteer to read it, Linda said she'd try. You have to have a little courage, a little self-confidence to read Middle English in public, but it's not impossible--Three litel pigges eche hadde a hous--oon was straw, a-nothir was woode, the thridde brikkes.--See what I mean?
     After Linda's fine delivery, we moved on to the "game" I created that shows how Chaucer presents dual descriptions: the Canterbury travelers are really an organized group but each is disguised as a pilgrim. Really? Yes, really.
     Helen came to hear what I had to say about Chaucer because she had enjoyed reading his tales in high school many years ago. It astonished her when she correctly identified the hidden, the concealed, figure of one of the pilgrims. When the game had run its course she said, "I came today because I like Chaucer, but I was not prepared for this whole new world you've opened up!"
     That pleased me, as you can imagine. To make readers aware of the unacknowledged genius of Chaucer is my aim. His creativity goes far beyond that of a mere storyteller.
     Linda added that her class in Chaucer's Tales talked about the possibility of the Pilgrims being identified as Christ's Apostles. There are many ways to see the plan of the Tales. With biblical figures in mind, a brief perusal of a Chaucer concordance finds mention of Adam and Eve in Paradise, Noah and the flood, Joseph, Mary, Herod, Caesar, Magdalene, Satan, hell, heaven and ever-present Judgment. Of course, a "brief perusal" is only a place to start. With enough thought and research, a Bible message might be revealed in the Tales. That's especially true because the best storytellers in Chaucer's day were expected to provide a hidden meaning--a challenge to be discovered.
     When our conversation turned to a religious topic, Tom spoke up. He said, "I've always wondered about the Knight, his son and their servant. That has all the makings of a Trinity." I added that I had had a similar thought.  [It's covered in detail in my Chaucer's Pilgrims, pp. 263-277.] Here's the gist of it.
     The servant--Yeoman--has one of the briefest introductions, a mere seventeen lines. The image is exceptionally colorful, and peacock feathers are an unexpected feature. His head is close-cropped, and his face is brown. He has a coat and hood of green and a green shoulder strap for his horn. He is  equipped with a sword and an elegant dagger as sharp as the point of a spear.
     Put the details together and see the neat, brilliant green head of a peacock with eyes and a beak of brown. The horn provides its raucous voice. Bird's talons were described by Pliny, centuries before Chaucer, as "weapons [that] grow upon their legs."
     Now, how to begin to explain why the Yeoman must be a peacock? We have before us a group of three figures: the father, the son and the peacock. It recalls for me an exasperated reply I once heard given by a theologian. In response to a question about the role of the Holy Spirit, he sputtered, "That damned bird!" The third person of the Trinity is not a bird. That's just a mental picture we are attached to. I see Chaucer replicating here that picture of the Trinity with pagan personifications. That's why a bird needs to be part of this group.
     One heretical opinion saw the Holy Spirit as "a mere creature, who differs only in degree from the angels." And, angels wings, in medieval illustrations, were made of peacock feathers. We can see Chaucer's portrayal in a pagan light as a poetic variation of the third person of the Trinity.
     The Yeoman tells no story. After he is introduced, he is never seen or heard from again. This fits because the Holy Spirit is often referred to as silent--going about His work in silence.
     So Rowland Heights gained the stimulation of new, unexpected ideas. That's what Chaucer deserves.

Wednesday, January 22, 2014

The repulsive Summoner

Our next topic, Aquarius, provides an example of the challenge of allegory. A cardinal rule is that when you recognize the pattern being used (for example, the zodiac), all the parts must be there.

Mythology for Aquarius, the Water Bearer, is vague. The constellation has no special visual display. Chaucer provides only a one-word clue. The narrator says,
          He knows how to call for "Watte" as well as does the pope.
Notes explain that "Watte" intends "Walter." Why change the spelling? Word-play. "Watte" functions on two levels, both as Walter and water. There must be an Aquarius, and minimal evidence identifies him.
     His occupation guides our search for the Summoner's identity within the clique. The task-name--summoner--reverberates. The most profound, most dreaded summons is Death. Death personified was a common medieval device. And why not? The population of Europe in 1400 was only half the number of those alive in 1300, mainly due to the plague. Plays dramatized the spectre summoning pope, emperor, merchant and peasant alike. Preachers, too, spoke of death as a summoner.
     But what does this have to do with Aquarius? Chauliac, physician to the pope, attributed the cause of the epidemic to the celestial conjunction of Saturn, Jupiter, and Mars, which occurred in the 19º of Aquarius. This zodiac figure, and its association with human devastation, brings us back to Chaucer's Pilgrim Summoner.
     Now let's view Chaucer's portrait of the pilgrim.
          A Summoner was there with us in that place,
          That had a fire-red cherub's face.
Medieval cherubs were often illustrated with faces painted red. Cherubim can be messengers of God. This cherubic Summoner does function as a messenger of a higher power. Figuratively, the title related to sickness, old age and death.
     No other pilgrim description is exclusively facial features; his other physical attributes are never mentioned. His face must tell all.
          Afflicted with "saucefleem" he was, with eyes narrow.
          As hot he was and lecherous as a sparrow, 
          With scaly black brows and thin beard.
          Of his visage children were afeared.
          There was no quicksilver, litharge, nor brimstone, 
          Borax, ceruse, nor cream of tartar none,
          Nor ointment that would cleanse and bite,
          That might help him with his whelks white (pustules),
           Nor with the knobs sitting on his cheeks.
His red (inflamed) face and swollen eyelids are, to put it mildly, an unsightly condition. "Saucefleem" meant a form of leprosy. Red and black discolorations were part of the affliction as well as loss of hair. Such a face would naturally be feared by children. He resembles a body dead of the plague or any corpse undiscovered for several days.
     The next line,
         Well loved he garlic, onions, and also leeks
is so specific, there must  be a connection to death or plague. In the Bible, Numbers 11 says, the children of Israel complained about the manna provided by God; they longed for "leeks, onions and garlic" they'd eaten while in captivity. The Lord sends them an overabundance of quail, and then--"the Lord being provoked against the people, struck them with an exceeding great plague." These onions and leeks remind us that an angry God has been known to send a " great plague."
     A grim association follows--wine the color of blood.
          And [he loved] to drink strong wine, red as blood;
          Then would he speak and cry as if we were mad.
          And when he had drunk enough wine, 
          Then would he speak no words but Latin.
When the Summoner has drained the barrel (indicating the end of a life), words in Latin would naturally follow as part of a ceremony for the dead, the Last Rites or the funeral.
          A few [Latin] terms had he, two or three,
          That he had learned out of some decree;
          It's no wonder--he heard it all the day.
Again there is a projection of the dead, with numbers so large that the Latin terms (ceremonies) were heard all day long. The number that perished seemed to indicate that Death had gone mad: the more of the wine of life he consumed, the more he craved.
     We'll take this up next time as we're told what a good fellow he is!